I was swept away by the search of the narrator for their unrequited loved one through the various wild streams of lucid dreaming, from place to place, Scotland and Ireland, from where-beast to where-beast, like the fashion for rehearsing in torn trousers.
Flo Reynolds / Sphinx
Cathenka’s poems exploit the vocabulary of the natural world to reveal thinly-veiled anxiety about human standing and understanding, while questioning hierarchy in both language and the tree of life.
Fred Spoliar / Spam Zine
Is there another pamphlet anywhere that acknowledges how funny the word ‘Nudibranchs’ is?
Laura Potts / The Norwich Radical
Cathenka delves into fields positioned outside the usual literary context, creatively engaging with obscure topics and themes in a fascinating and moving book.
The surreal nature of the works, coupled with the automatic style and personal element, offer enjoyable reading.
There are asks, in this work, that will make you breathe under your breath. Osborne has command of occurrence, and gives the subtle order that whatever happens be randomly stunned.
C J Eggett
A collection of poems that thread declaratives, dialogue and ominous pseudo-mythic pronouncements to build a kind of stream-of-consciousness from inside the witch’s cauldron.
A wry post-mortem of celebrity, identity, objectification, artifice and reality. The more times I read it, the more I see. The more I think about it, the more Marilyn Monroe converges.
A wry tale that deconstructs facets of Marilyn Monroe’s persona in a way that’s both clever and poignant.
Pearson builds worlds in her poems, whether it is the strange towns of the Sims or a different country, where pavements crawl with thoughts. These worlds held themselves up to me, demanding I examine them from all angles. I’m still haunted by scavengers’ aliens and animal ghosts; its cars made up of ‘blood and guts and coupons’; its journeys with dogs into space. Pearson’s sprawling lines think deeply – care deeply – about the worlds they create, and often suddenly contract to small realisations or findings: a bird, a kiss or the very fact that we, and her speakers, exist. These poems are strange, lyric, beautiful and they keep shimmering long after you’ve stopped reading.
Ward’s poems are an excavation of the body in distress. The language here probes and fingers through complex subjects, finding in them a site of endless intrigue. We are placed into a world that allures with its viscerality, one that is at times tender and at others clinical. The Burns Unit asks us: what happens after the trauma? If the body is a home, what happens when that home is compromised? Where do we go?
THE GUMBALL POETRY MACHINE
The idea: We want to create a gumball poetry machine. A machine that dispenses poetry with all the thrill and anticipation of childhood. You know the sort: brightly coloured capsules filled with toys or sweets, the metallic noise of mechanisms at work, and the anticipatory rush of something new.
Now imagine that with poetry. Poems from poets around the world.
The aim: We will take the gumball poetry machine to literary events we attend / run, though the bigger aim is to host the machine in venues across Norwich. We are a UNESCO City of Literature after all.
We aim to pay the poets involved as well as donating to charities.
If the idea proves popular we’d like to create more.
We are open to sponsorship and donations for the purchasing of a gumball machine, capsules, and printing costs. Details on submitting poems will be announced later.
Drop us an email: email@example.com
Or simply donate below: